"Has anyone seen Logan? He was supposed to meet me an hour ago!" Scott's abrupt arrival startled Jean and Storm as they sat at the mansion's kitchen island in the middle of what looked like the mother of all cookie preparations. Both women were actively involved, and Jean had even managed to smudge her pert nose with a bit of flour. But Scott was too aggravated to be distracted after having searched the last thirty minutes for his errant security partner. Storm shook her head.
"I haven't, have you Jean?" The redhead responded in a negative as well.
"What's going on Scott?" Her love's mouth twisted slightly.
"Logan should be here helping me work on the school's security, but I can't find any hint of him around. I think he's skipped out to go do something else. He can be so juvenile sometimes…" Storm cocked her head to one side.
"Ah, I remember now Charles mentioning he'd asked Logan to help you with that, but I didn't know when the two of you would be working on it. From what the professor said, Logan had agreed to do it. He doesn't just go back on his word like that…" She sounded thoughtful, but Scott snorted softly. He didn't always think the worst of Logan, but sometimes the man could get on his last nerve, and it showed in his current irritation.
"He might if he could wiggle his way around it for a time. I'm sure it wasn't very high on his list of important things to do." Cyclops' sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Storm's eyes pierced the X-men leader.
"I think it was, Scott. Logan was not happy at all about how easily the soldiers managed to get onto school grounds. Once the professor reminded him of that, he was willing to do what it would take to help prevent a reoccurrence. So, if that were the case, and he isn't here now helping you… what has changed since then? What has prevented him from being here?"
x_X_x
Logan easily stood and swung his leg over the cycle he'd been riding, the hushed silence pervading everything after he shut off the rumbling engine. Snow crunched under his boots as he approached the entrance to the Alkali Lake base for a second time, although with even more trepidation than before. Every instinct was screaming at him to leave here and never come back, but whether it was from the horrific memories he had of the place or because of some sense of current danger it was hard to tell. All Logan knew was that he wanted answers. Scott would damn sure be pissed that he'd skipped out on the security chore and taken the other man's prized bike again, but it was the fastest mode of transportation available. He'd just have to face the music when he got back. Right now, Wolverine was more concerned with the cold silence surrounding him, nerves on edge and half ready to show his claws at any moment. He could now remember escaping from the place, running through a door out into the snow, but from where? What little thought residing in his mind back then was so scrambled that it was hard to tell for certain just what he had experienced. Still, wouldn't hurt to do a little recon and look around. Get the lay of the land, so to speak. Breath fogging in the cold air, Logan moved slowly forward and around, circumventing the obvious entrance he'd barely looked into during the first visit, and headed along the border walling the base in. All he could remember was snowy forest, and cold gray sky. If he didn't come out through that entryway, then how? There was nothing but white and bitter cold, the crisp air nipping at his lungs with every indrawn breath as he patrolled the exterior of the base. His leather jacket and layers of clothing only just kept the far northern chill at bay, although his jeans were quickly becoming uncomfortably cold. Logan's shoulders slumped a little, although he kept moving. This couldn't be a dead end, not again, not when he'd actually risked something for this particular trip into memory lane. If he didn't have something to show for it when he returned, it would be almost impossible to face his team. His friends. A flash of something from the corner of his eye caught wandering attention, focused it onto the sight of three slash marks marring the trunk of a tree. He'd been here! Logan's gaze sharpened, finding another, fainter set of claw marks closer to the base wall, and then he stopped short. There on the cold concrete exterior was another three-claw mark, but instead of a full length of slashing, it just ended. Abruptly. A sudden surge of memory struck, staggering the mutant in its intensity. He was pushing the door open, desperate and unbalanced with the feeling of immense heaviness in his body. He slid sideways a little to his right and caught himself on the open doorway. Panting heavily, he braced himself against the cold material, arm muscles bunching with the effort of moving off through the snow. He never noticed how the bared claws of his right hand had cut deep marks into the wall beside the gaping doorway.
Logan shook his head slowly, almost nauseated by the memory. But this was it, this was where he'd escaped! How did the door open? Bare hands moved over the cold, rough surface, but found nothing of note. Sensitive fingertips felt no indicator of a switch or lever and his posture turned dejected. Could it only be opened from the inside? Well screw that. Gleaming metal suddenly protruded from his knuckles, determination filling him. Nothing as inconsequential as a thick slab of concrete was going to stand in his way, and adamantium backed up the thought for him, slicing through the wall like a stick of butter. Once inside, he registered the immediate change in temperature. Not cozy-warm by any stretch, but definitely warmer than an abandoned complex should be, as if residual heat from somewhere was rising to the higher level. It was quiet, but there were definite traces of scent, faint hints of human activity occurring fairly recently mixed with the abundant smell of guns. Could Stryker be here? Logan's pulse quickened, but whether in anticipation or fear he really couldn't say. Wouldn't want to analyze it either, truth be told. Pushing aside the twinge of mental discomfort, he moved forward slowly with hands fisted and claws still at the ready. Without the rustle of leaves and evergreen needles and the crunch of snow, keen hearing picked up a faint whirring sound, a barely audible electric buzz that drew his gaze to a small gleaming device on the wall. Closer examination revealed a tiny security camera, obviously still running. Oh yeah, they had to know he was there. Logan looked back and forth in the hallway, half expecting to see a unit bursting onto the scene. Well, there was such a thing as response time, after all. He continued at a more strolling pace, although the relaxed manner was at odds with the razor-sharp claws that had yet to be tucked back into his forearms. There were multiple hallways branching out from the one he was walking down, but Wolverine didn't see the point in moving around too much and delaying the inevitable. Someone was bound to come and welcome him to their humble abode. Speaking of… his ears picked up the sound of booted feet, the clomping rhythm indicating a good number of bodies were about to meet up with his location. Logan kept his stance relaxed but his forearms tense so the lethal claws remained in sight. No sense in making it too easy, after all.
From several hallways came a multitude of soldiers, all carrying rifles and looking extremely serious in their intent of protecting the base. Not that the guns would do anything against him if he got serious himself, but let them think what they would. He ended up essentially surrounded, or as surrounded as you could be in a hallway, a few of the kids looking nervously at the metal blades protruding from his knuckles. The more experienced among them seemed to take it all in stride. Well, at least they were covering their emotions better. There was a definite blend of nerves and fear coming to his nose from a good number of the soldiers standing in his way, no matter how impassive their expressions. Did they even know who he was? What he could do? Logan stayed still, relaxed. These were the same guys he'd met in the woods back at the mansion, he was certain of it, which meant his stab at this lead had actually come up with something. There was hope after all, and the feral mutant felt his normal confidence renewed at the thought.
"Sorry to invite myself in like this, but the door was open," he said calmly, with a little smirking tilt to his lips, wondering with amusement if his entry-point had been discovered yet. A few looked askance at each other, maybe wondering if he was not all there mentally. Others sneered a little at his cocky attitude, but Logan honestly couldn't care less what any of them were thinking. He was only after one thing. "Where's Stryker?"